


After everything

by Lenami



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, In a way, Kid Fic, M/M, Melancholy, Not Beta Read, Rick and Francesca are divorced, Rick has a daughter, Slice of Life, We Die Like Men, i guess, kinda sad, nostalgic, not that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenami/pseuds/Lenami
Summary: Alice’s mom never liked Cliff too much, but to be fair, she didn’t like a lot of things, including Alice’s father, so her judgement wasn’t something Alice trusted without doubt.Rick and Francesca had a daughter and then divorced. Cliff is just kinda there to fix it all.
Relationships: Cliff Booth & Rick Dalton, Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	After everything

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore what would happen if one of them would have a kid but it's mostly just snippets from their daily life, tied together in one work. Alice is around ten in the first part of the work and around college in the second part. I think it's kind of nostalgic but not that sad work.   
> Enjoy! (I am sorry for any possible grammar errors, English is not my first language)

‘Rick, come on. You are not going to sleep in the car.’ Cliff tried to get him out, but Rick was a dead weight. ‘Why? Because we are in front of the house!’

He dragged his half-conscious friend back to the house. Rick reeked of alcohol and cigarettes and finding the light switch with his arm slung over his shoulders wasn’t an easy job.

‘Rick, could you help me out a bit… it’s on your right, no, not there… On your right! You know what? Never mind, we can do without light.’

‘Cliff?’ Rick slurred, his hand slipping and grabbing Cliff’s forearm. ‘Cliff?’

‘Yes?’ He sighed and stopped fumbling with keys, froze, preparing himself for new wave of puking. It didn’t come but he felt Rick take a step back and shakily stand on his own. Hand on his forearm slowly moved up to his nape, tangling fingers in hair there. Second one came up to cup his cheek and put a strand of his now-too long hair behind ear. It was warm.

Rick was silent, he could hear their breathing now.

‘Let’s fuck.’ Rick words hit him like a bullet.

‘You are completely wasted. ‘

‘You fuck people when you are drunk.’

‘But I don’t fuck drunk people, that’s a difference.’

‘There is absolutely no difference.’ Rick whined, grabbing him by the shoulders.

‘Just no. We can talk about this in the morning, come on.’ Cliff pulled him, cursing when Rick tripped on the pile of books left on the floor.

‘I am not going to want to talk about it in the morning.’ Rick tried to point finger at him but he actually spoke to his own face glaring from the movie poster.

‘That’s a pity.’ Cliff’s voice was sour. ‘You are probably going to puke in few minutes anyway’

Going up on the stairs with extra weight made him a bit breathless.

‘That is, unfortunately, a fair point.’ Cliff could hear that Rick wasn’t entirely there and he wondered if it was only alcohol’s work. Some of Sharon’s friends, how to put it, liked to party well. ‘Be quiet, Alice is sleeping.’

‘What about- what about nanny?’ Rick stopped now, concentrated on trying to put his feet on the same step for the fifth time but he kept slipping off.

‘She left. I went to talk to her while you were in the car.’ He pushed bathroom door open and put Rick on the floor, not bothering to be particularly gentle.

‘All right then.’ He fell silent for a moment. ‘I think I am going to puke.’

Cliff rolled his eyes.

* * *

After puking, Rick surprisingly was sober enough to take shower by himself so Cliff went to Alice’s bathroom. Looking at his own 50-year old self in the childish, pink mirror felt surreal. He lost some weight since he had stopped working as a stuntman and somehow acquired permanent bags under eyes.

He was still wearing Rick’s ill-fitting suit, borrowed for this night. Cliff felt alien in it, like he was wearing Rick’s skin, pretending to be part of his world. He had no clue why Rick kept taking him to Sharon’s parties, besides the obvious; there was no one else who would be ready to drag his half-conscious body back home.

On those parties, Cliff masqueraded as one of them, but he knew that someone as him would never be enough for these people. Tagging along with Rick was childish but there was no better option. The only person whose company he actually enjoyed there, was Sharon. He hasn’t meet anyone who would make better host. Now, pregnant again, she didn’t drink and they remained the only sober people in the whole company.

He tried to be as quiet as possible while showering but he knew that Alice was a light sleeper. He would check on her as soon as he managed to put Rick to bed.

‘Rick, everything alright?’ He knocked on the bathroom door after alarmingly long period of silence. ‘Can I come in?’

Rick sat on the bathroom floor, already in his pyjamas, looking dazed. He let Cliff pull him up and lead to bedroom.

‘Can we…?’ he started.

‘You can go to sleep, if that’s what you are asking about.’ Cliff handed him clean blanket. ‘Here you go.’

They fell silent for a moment; Rick curled on the bed without further complaints.

‘Cliff?’ his voice stopped him just when he was about to close the door.

‘Yes?’

‘You are always so perfect.’ He sounded drunk again, but just a little bit.

Cliff suddenly felt like crying, lump in his throat, but he swallowed the feeling and laughed in the usual way.

‘And you are drunk. Go to sleep, Rick.’

* * *

Pouring himself a glass of whisky, he felt the weariness in his limbs; tired arms, phantom ache in his leg. He swallowed the drink so quickly, he couldn’t even taste it. Lump in his throat disappeared permanently, dissolved by alcohol. That feeling was familiar even though Cliff cried last time when he was in military, being basically a kid. He could remember it still- it was only half crying; second half was blind rage and shouting obscenities at the doctor who decided to operate without proper anesthetic. They gave it to him eventually though.

What was even so special about Rick’s drunk mumbling?

Things lately were just… Just bad.

Water dripped from his hair, soaking into worn t-shirt he left there some time ago. He stood in the dark kitchen for a moment, letting himself contemplate this weird mood of his, filled with aftertaste of Rick’s expensive whisky and silence of the sleeping house.

‘Cliff?’ he wasn’t really surprised when he heard Alice’s voice.

‘Did I wake you up? Sorry. These parties always end at such a late hour.’

‘Is dad alright? I think I heard him, you know, throwing up?’ she squinted, like she knew her dad was up to no good. She was splitting image of her father, no trace of Francesca in her.

‘He ate something bad, that’s why I was dropping him off.’ Cliff lied without hesitation. ‘I wanted to stay the night, I hope you don’t mind.’

‘You almost always stay the night.’ She laughed soundlessly, in a way too mature manner for a ten-year old. ‘I like it, it means there will be breakfast before 11 am.’

Cliff smiled, putting the glass on a countertop.

‘Do you want something to drink? I can make you hot chocolate.’ He switched the lights on.

‘It’s a middle of the night, I don’t think dad would be too happy about it.’ She said it in a serious voice but she also gave him knowing look.

‘Well…’ Cliff made a pause, waiting for her to join in.

‘What he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.’ They said at the same time.

‘Do you want marshmallows?’ He asked, opening the cabinet.

‘That’s a stupid question, you know it.’

* * *

Alice’s mom never liked Cliff too much, but to be fair, she didn’t like a lot of things, including Alice’s father, so her judgement wasn’t something Alice trusted without doubt.

She never really understood who Cliff was, but pretty soon she figured out that his presence was somehow unique to their family. Her dad used to say that Cliff is their stuntman- but that didn’t make things clear for her, in contrary even- what could that even mean for a kid?

Her dad used to say a lot of things that didn’t exactly make sense.

But that’s just things were. Or used to be. Her dad produced his nonsense and Cliff was always there somehow.

She loved him in a weird way, similar to the way she loved dad but still different. He cleaned up their mess, he was there to drive her somewhere when she needed, he took care of her dad when he was drunk. Always, always; he was the most reliable person she ever knew. They wouldn’t be able to make it without him.

The older she got, more she understood. Now, as an adult, she knew that dad loved him, but how and in what way? This always remained unsaid, even when they borrowed each other their clothes, when dad tugged in an affectionate way on Cliff’s too long hair which he always forgot to cut in time, when Cliff stayed the night few times a week.

It just was the way things were.

That was why she let him stop her when she stormed out of the house, to get into the taxi. She was already on the driveway when she heard him calling her name.

‘Alice! Wait for a second, Alice!’

She watched how he made long steps, moving with lightness, all straight, long lines, made a little bit stiff by age. He aged with grace, none of those embarrassing, gross things old age brought. He was thinner and seemed somehow tired but that was all that changed- everything else was good, old Cliff.

He didn’t wear his glasses, she noticed. She made him go to eye-doctor a year ago, what resulted in a pair of glasses he never wore.

Stubborn old man.

‘Did he make you go after me?’ she crossed her arms when he stood before her.

‘No, it’s just… You know, maybe it’s not my place but I wanted to tell you to remember that your father loves you very much, no matter how much you two argue.’

‘Yes, he does.’ She said bitterly and looked him right in the eyes.

He didn’t look away- he never did, bearing the heaviest, most unpleasant glares from the worst people.

‘Go, if you must, I will deal with him.’

She hugged him and he ruffled her hair as if she were a little girl.

When she was already in the car, in the last minute she remembered last thing.

‘Cliff!’ she shouted, sticking her head through the window. ‘Don’t let him drink!’

He nodded from distance and waved her goodbye.

* * *

Cliff actually never liked summer too much-what was, when he thought about it, kind of weird, for someone who lived in LA. He certainly didn’t like it now- with sticky bed sheets clinging to his skin and suffocating still air. Smell of sex still lingered in the room despite the open window. The bed was just a little too small and he could feel the heat of Rick’s body. They were both covered in sweat and uncomfortable but none of them had energy to get up and clean up.

He took the cigarettes out of pocket of his discarded jeans, looking for the lighter but he felt hand tugging on his arm.

‘Don’t smoke.’ Rick’s voice was a bit hazy. ‘Sheets will smell like cigarettes.’

‘We have to wash them anyway.’

‘All right then.’ Rick sat up, hair falling into his eyes. ‘Give me one.’

They fell silent for a moment, smoking.

‘You alright?’ Cliff asked him, noticing dark rings under his eyes.

‘Yeah, you know, it’s just the usual. Work.’ Rick gave him tired smile. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’ Cliff’s head was perfectly empty at that moment, he stared blankly at clothes on the floor.

‘Do you think about doing it the other way sometimes? You know, being…’

‘On the receiving end? No, not really, do you want to…’ he turned to him, analysing Rick’s face.

‘No, no. Just asking. I mean if you would be okay with it.’ Rick’s ears turned red.

‘I guess I don’t really mind. Fucking is fucking, isn’t it? Cliff felt like they should drop the subject, for some reason. ‘I think we should move and clean this mess.’

‘Or go to sleep.’ Rick put out his cigarette.

‘Or go to sleep on those disgusting sheets.’ Cliff laughed but he didn’t move.

Rick curled up on his side. Cliff laid down too. It was too hot for any kind of physical contact but he rested his forehead on Rick’s back.

He wanted to say it but he couldn’t. It just couldn’t get through his throat; ‘Love you, love you, love you’ just bounced in his head endlessly.

He took shaky breath and finally let it out, just once, it sounded strangled.

‘Love you.’

There was no reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos or comments. I would be extremly grateful!


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